


True Colours

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Sex, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(In no way related to a different TF2 fic of the same name.)<br/>Medic can't keep up with Scout sexually sometimes, so he decides to have a little fun with him and kill the mood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Colours

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the "Medic Shows His True Colors" video floating around YouTube.

“Aw shit, Doc, harder, harder!”

Scout arched his back as the Teuton atop him complied, picking up his already furious pace and hammering into him with force. The bed slammed against the wall over and over, scuffing along the floor with the momentum of Medic's thrusts, burying himself in his younger lover. The runner's grip on the metal bars of the bed's headboard tightened, his teeth gritted tight enough to make his jaw ache. He needed Medic so desperately, so deep, wanted the older man to put him through the mattress. He needed to be filled, to be used, to be fucked beyond the capacity for rational thought. His eyes squeezed tight, his ragged pants rushed through his teeth and flared nostrils, his face a twisted mask of agony and ecstasy.

Medic grabbed hold of the younger man's wrists, pulling his hands from the headboard and pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. All of his weight on his lover's arms, Medic dug his toes into the bed. The fitted sheet having long given up its task and curling up halfway across the bed, the scratchy fabric of the mattress provided extra grip for the doctor. Scout could be so difficult to read. Often he was happy to make love, or have a good romp, but every once in a while, he would get in a mood and beg to be dominated in bed, often for a whole week, every time they made love. It was certainly incredibly arousing, but it was somewhat challenging; though Heavy had an easier time of it by virtue of his size, the gangly youth made Medic work. He could feel his strength flagging, and he couldn't keep up the pace Scout was begging so insistently for. It was the fourth day straight of this, and it was enough. Medic, shuddering, overwrought, covered in sweat, began to slow his pace.

Scout found his breath slowly, and whimpered with need, “Doc, come on, man!” He wriggled his bottom, clenching lightly around his lover.

The older man shuddered at the feeling, reduced to a slow roll of his hips, panting. “Nein, I have nothing left to give.”

“I need it, Doc, I need you to _fuck_ me!” Scout snapped his hips, making the older man groan.

“You want me to fuck you so badly? I will fuck you, then!” Medic resigned, a smirk crossing his features for a moment, before he resumed, his pace slow, long, and agonizing. His hands moved from the younger's wrists to his sides, sliding down to hold his slim hips gently. What would be incredibly romantic and sensual was simply frustrating to the needful youth, and Scout's eyes snapped open, fixing his gaze on his older lover.

Medic stared down at Scout, eyes wide, unblinking. His mouth was set in a line, jaw clenched. He just stared, eyes meeting his, pale blue shining in the dim light through the half-open blinds on the windows. He stared, his face unmoving as his hips ground so slowly into him, filling him leisurely over and over, never once breaking his gaze.

Scout recoiled in horror, letting out a cry and pushing Medic off of him, out of him. “What the FUCK, man?”

The doctor stared another moment longer, kneeling there, before the corner of his mouth twinged. Then, a suppressed breath caught in his throat with a _snerk_. Finally, he couldn't contain himself any longer and broke down in laughter, falling to his side.

The younger pouted, crossing his arms and drawing his knees up to his chest, sitting up against the headboard. “You have the worst sense of humour.”

“Ha ha! I know!” was all Medic could gasp out between cackles.


End file.
